


the flower that never dies

by penscritch



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen overturns the metaphorical chessboard, Kanda’s depressing philosophy regarding life, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, admittedly more pre-slash than slash, because Kanda and Allen are remarkably slow when it comes to FEELINGS, because he’s a poker player, foul language courtesy of one Kanda Yuu, history of Kanda, life sucks, spoilers up to Chapter 218
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penscritch/pseuds/penscritch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanda is a resilient bastard, and he can take just about everything life throws at him. But so is Allen, and he’s the curveball that Kanda never sees coming. Also known as the most stubborn match made in Hell. KandaxAllen</p>
            </blockquote>





	the flower that never dies

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, important things first. This story? It’s written as snippets of events in the manga arranged chronologically, which means spoilers involving Alma Karma and little Kanda going all the way to the weirdness that is grown-up Kanda trying to fix Allen. If you remember the manga well, it should be pretty easy to figure out where in the manga plot each section matches.  
> It was also written in honor of Hoshino, and her twisted, twisted mind for coming up with D.Gray-man which pretty much throws every stereotype you’ve ever had about heroes out of the water. I understand so deeply about how much illness can throw writing and drawing off track, but her cliffhangers are killing me. I’m just praying that she gets better at this point, because it’d be horrible if she up and dies like the original mangaka of Trinity Blood. No one can replace Hoshino. Also, writing fanfic apparently makes me feel better. A lot. At least I’m not compulsively rereading D.Gray-man every week or something now.
> 
> See Endnote for translations to Ave Maria quotes.
> 
> Disclaimer: Do I own this manga? Do I look like I own this manga? If I did, I would have made Kanda and Allen make out already, because they’ve had this slow burn going on for such a long time.

“Hey, Kanda. Do you think we’ll ever get out of here one day?”

“Tch.”

“Well, I think we will! We’ll get out there and fight together, and learn all kinds of things! Like mayonnaise and lettuce and other things! It’ll be great! Kanda, what do you want to do? There must be something you want to do when we get outside!”

“…”

“Come on, Kanda!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“ _Kanda, why are you so mean?!_ ”

\---

The purpose of life is suffering.

He has never forgotten. It took him ten years to learn it, spent in the Sixth Research Facility, a place as dank and dark as any Hell. Alma’s presence was irritating, too bright in a place littered with the corpses of failures. He raged for the truth he knew that no one could see. Why the pretty lies? They were second exorcists, born to pain – day after day they were brought to the limit as scientists pored over their bodies like miniature monsters brought to life, for the sake of Innocence.

 _Ave Maria, gratia plena_.

They were as far from grace as it was possible to be without being dead a second time.

But Alma didn’t seem to know that. Stupid bastard stalked him everywhere, hiding behind pillars or even a damned barrel where he thought he wouldn’t notice. The fool wanted to _make friends_. Tch.

And then it did seem possible, for one impossibly golden moment as they lay broken on the floor and laughing pain and improbable hope.

He should have known better of course, because everything went to shit right after that. Memories that both were and were not his bubbling up from the depths of his mind, Marie lying damaged on the hard cot, the damn Crows, and Alma missing. He threw aside the paneling and stepped forward into the room.

Alma turned to face him, twisted wings flaring behind him amidst a sea of blood.

“Yuu, you’re safe!”

 _Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae_.

He stared the Devil in the face that day, and it wore the face of his best friend.

Ave Maria his ass.

\---

Even if they did not meet in that unavoidably confrontational clash outside the Black Order gates, Kanda would have disliked Walker anyway.

Lenalee laughs and smiles at him, the stupid rabbit claps a companionable hand on his back as he leans closer to reveal a small tidbit of no doubt useless information about Headquarters. And Walker? He just smiles with that vapid look on his face, perfect fucking manners and perfect fucking language. A perfect gentleman.

Inside? He’s a disaster.

Kanda should know. Takes one to know one.

He walks like he knows where he’s going when he actually knows fuck-all about where he’s headed. He spouts off nonsense about wanting to save people when his reality is a death wish and misplaced empathy. He smiles like everything’s fine, absolutely fine, when inside he’s cracking apart into so many pieces Kanda doubts even the freaks from the Science Division could put him back together.

They’re all older than they look, considering only the insane willingly enter the exorcist business, but sometimes Kanda feels incredibly old when he looks at the others. Especially him. Kanda knows all about curses, and no one takes one unless they’re planning to take everyone down with them into hell. At least Kanda’s honest about it.

That’s why when Walker smiles emptily at him and offers a hand, Kanda spits, “Like I’d shake hands with a cursed person.”

Fools, especially fools fooling themselves, don’t last long as Exorcists.

\---

Of course, the beansprout just has to prove him wrong. He aggravates him by lasting longer in their line of work than he has any right to, still clinging onto his fucking ideals like a morbid teddy bear.

_I want to be a destroyer who can save anybody._

Kanda knows this is impossible. He has spent ten years learning just how impossible it is, and more affirming the truth that it is impossible. The old man cries when Daisya dies, but to be honest, Kanda expected it. He never really liked Daisya but unlike the idiotic beansprout, he had no illusions about life at all other than a good prank or busty women, which Kanda appreciated. He was also more slippery than an eel on the getaway, which should have made him a fairly safe investment for _feelings_. The kind old man Tiedoll liked to indulge in.

But it didn’t turn out that way because life’s shitty like that. You like something, it’ll take it away. Kanda doesn’t even expect Mugen to make it out in one piece by now.

Sad thing is, beansprout’s stupid optimism must be catching, because Kanda finds himself staring down the ugly Noah freak in the ridiculous rainbow room and tells them to go on. He’ll take care of this. He ignores the voice at the back of his head pointing out that no Exorcist has ever taken on and beaten a Noah before. Walker seems to catch something in his tone, because he spins around and tells the others to leave, he’ll fight off the Noah _with him_.

Like fuck.

Kanda pulls out his sword and shoots off a Kaichuu Ichigen to shift their asses in gear.

\---

Kanda breaks his sword on Skin fucking Boric.

 

In revenge, he completely annihilates him with Three Illusions style.

 

Take that, motherfucker.

 

\---

 

One of the first things he notices when he wakes up remarkably not-dead is the shadows in the beansprout’s eyes. They’re all riding the high of surviving (and defeating) the Noah and the fucking Millenium Earl himself, and finding Cross Marian, who is an impossible bastard to track down.

 

Lenalee, the rabbit, the others, none of them see. They’re too happy at finally getting the fuck out of there alive, and they’re drowning in that happiness, getting drunk off it like wine.

 

They’re eating him alive.

 

Kanda has better shit to do than take care of a beansprout, and it’s likely that he’ll spill his guts to Lenalee and the rest sometime. He sneaks out to train, because clearly he’s not strong enough if Mugen’s broken.

 

Kanda’s halfway through beating up the Founders and almost everyone in the training room again when the rabbit’s master enters the room. He can feel him appraising his technique as he alternately punches or kicks another weakling into the wall. In between fights, Kanda notes that he doesn’t look like he’s slept well – his “panda” eyes are more obvious than ever, and Kanda wonders if everyone bottles up their issues like the damn beansprout. It’s not his fucking fault his apprentice got stuck fighting the Noah without him. He wipes the floor with the rest of the weaklings, and he definitely needs more of a challenge. He looks consideringly at the Bookman.

 

“Want to fight, old man?”

 

The old man drops onto the sand, and moves into position. He smirks and gestures, “Ready when you were young, brat.”

 

Kanda grins, feral. Now _this_ is more like it.

 

The fight lasts long enough for a good workout, and both of them are at an even stalemate. It’s about time they stopped, before the Matron comes by and drags them out. Kanda gives the old man a look and a nod, and the old man catches his meaning. They slide out of battle positions and commence stretching.

 

It’s silent, until the old man speaks.

 

“You know,” he drops casually, “Walker doesn’t know how to use a sword. It might be beneficial if you took the time to teach him.”

 

“When the fuck did Walker get a sword,” because _what the fuck?!_

 

“He surpassed the critical point in the Ark.”

 

Kanda stops and stares, because he did not expect that from the beansprout of all people. Then again, what the hell does he know. He resumes stretching, and it’s quiet again.

 

Finally, Kanda asks, “What kind of sword?” because letting the beansprout wander around with a sword and no training is a horrifying thought.

 

The old man grunts, and slings his arms behind his back, pulling them away from his body. “Western. Large. If you’ve seen the image of the Earl’s sword from the report, it’s the same size and shape.” After a significant pause, he adds, “Opposite coloring too.”

 

The old man finishes stretching and leaves.

 

Kanda frowns.

 

He doesn’t miss the implication – the beansprout may as well have “Destroyer of Time” tattooed across his face. His appearance and the escalation of the war against the Earl is not a coincidence. Increasingly powerful Akuma, the strange killings of the Exorcists, and now open war against the Earl and the Noah, openly seen after centuries of subterfuge. 

 

The war is entering the final stage, but what’s the endgame?

 

Kanda sighs and folds himself into meditation. Not his shit to worry about. Fucking beansprout. More importantly, his specialty is in Eastern sword styles. He knows a couple Western ones too, but they’re suited for thinner swords, like fencing. Bookman knows this. There’s not much he can teach the beansprout, with his oversized meat cleaver. He shouldn’t be considering this at all, but setting the beansprout loose upon the Akuma or the world without any sword training isn’t something even he’s cruel enough to do. Dumbshit would cut anything that moved and call it a technique. And the rest of their merry fucking band hasn’t yet noticed the beansprout’s issues staring them in the face yet, which doesn’t look like it’ll happen anytime soon what with the shitstorm that just went down.

 

Generals. Skull troops. Scientist collateral. Fucking Level Four. And fucking Noah.

 

Kanda wants Mugen back.  But life is cruel as always, and in said shitstorm Kanda had to rely on the shitty swords in storage to make sure Komui lived and kept the Black Order less shitty than it used to be. If it were the old days, the beansprout would have been taken to the labs once they found out he had a parasitic Innocence, never mind that he was the Destroyer of Time.

 

And back to the fucking beansprout again.

 

Walker’s a consummate con artist, but he’s never trained himself to stare the ugly naked truth in the face every day of his life. Kanda has. He sees the way the perfect smile the beansprout pastes on his face fades just a little whenever the others look away. The shadows flickering behind the beansprout’s eyes are very familiar.

 

Kanda’s sick and tired of shadows. He’s tired of the beansprout looking depressed all the time and plastering that fake smile on his face like a ratty bandage.

 

The next time he sees the beansprout, he’s staring morosely at a window. He’s not even bothering to look at what’s outside, just at the glass and his eyes are eerily vacant. Kanda sighs. Why is he bothering with this shit again?

 

He slams a foot onto the wall next to the beansprout’s head, and he startles, almost falling out of his chair.

 

“Your fucking moping is killing brain cells, Moyashi.”

 

Angry, he automatically snaps, “I’m not moping, BaKanda,” and somewhat belatedly, “And what’s it to you, anyway? They’re my brain cells.”

 

“What the fuck do I care about your brain? It’s killing _my_ brain cells, your stupid depression is infecting every room you’re in and raising the level of stupid. And what the fuck else do you call staring out the window every second like a nutcase? Damn looks like moping to me.”

 

“It’s not moping, stupid Kanda! I’m just… looking at the scenery! Can’t someone look out a window in peace? Of course, you wouldn’t know culture if it bit you in the ass.”

 

 “The fuck?! I had fucking old man Tiedoll for my master, the fuck I don’t know about culture. On the other hand, I can’t say the same for you. You know what people call your obsessive-compulsive window-staring? They call it suicide ideation, dumbshit.”

 

The beansprout stares at him, flabbergasted.

 

Smugly, Kanda adds, “If you’re thinking about jumping outside to kill yourself, Moyashi, just let me know. I’ll throw you out myself, save the gene pool.”

 

They glare at each other, but then a strange look crosses the beansprout’s face.

 

“Kanda… are you worried about me?”

 

“The fuck did that come from?!”

 

Oddly, the stupid beansprout just smiles, actually looks fucking _happy_. This is too disturbing for Kanda, so he throws a shinai at the beansprout’s head. He catches it and stares at Kanda bemusedly.

 

“Heard you finally got a sword, Moyashi. Bookman’s telling me you don’t know shit about swords, and I’m going to pound something into your dumbass head.”

 

He’s turning to head to the training room when Allen says, oddly sincere, “Thanks, Kanda.”

 

Kanda doesn’t need this touchy-feely shit. Pausing in the doorway, Kanda glowers, “I’ll shave you bald.”

 

“You first, BaKanda.” He smiles that fucking sparkly black smile when he adds, “Loser gets shaved. Crew cut.”

 

 “You’re on, Moyashi,” Kanda smirks.

 

\---

 

As expected, the beansprout’s swordsmanship is beyond shabby; it’s nonexistent.

 

How the fuck is the Destroyer of Time supposed to save them all? Perhaps it’s a good thing Kanda doesn’t give a fuck about the world in the first place.

 

\---

 

Kanda firmly tells himself he doesn’t give a damn when he finds out that beansprout’s harboring a Noah inside him. He ignores the twinge in his gut when he sees the beansprout staring randomly at the stupidest fucking things again. It’s not his business.

 

\---

 

Alma is dead. He killed him with his own hands, with his own sword, and the blood can never be washed off. His sins will never disappear.

 

He knows he’s going to Hell.

 

But when that fucking Noah tells him that it’s Alma, that he was never dead, that he’s been stitched up and prodded at all these years, Kanda loses his shit.

 

\---

 

Nice job, life. He totally didn’t see that coming. Fucking life.

 

Of course, then he ends up stabbing the beansprout in a blind rage, because his life clearly can’t get any better.

 

\---

 

He should have known never to bet on the beansprout, because Lavi _told_ him he was a fucking cardshark.

 

Beansprout sends them through the Ark with that stupid look on his face, and Kanda’s holding Alma in his arms for the first time in a long while.

 

He’s finally found her (him).

 

They’re finally free. It’s more than he’d thought he’d ever get out of what remained of his life. Alma’s here, they’re together, and his (her) voice is soft as he speaks his last words. Always so kind, not unlike the beansprout, but his kindness broke him.

 

Kanda listens. He hates to admit this, but life may actually have it out for the beansprout more than anyone on the planet. He has reason to feel legitimately shitty.

 

Not only because Kanda stabbed him and let out the Fourteenth, either. Kanda recalls the stupid fucking smile on the beansprout’s face as he sent them through and feels something vaguely uncomfortable coil at the bottom of his stomach.

 

More importantly, this means he owes the beansprout now. Damn.

 

\---

 

Kanda doesn’t understand why everyone’s so weepy. It’s not like anyone likes him, considering how hard he tries to stab them every day.

 

Old Man Zu, Kanda understands. There’s no way to say sorry for ruining someone’s already shitty life like ruining his entire afterlife as well, by sticking his brain in some random body to work some more. He’s never going to forgive Old Man Zu or the Order, but at least the old man owns up to his sins. It’s more honesty than most people manage. They’re all going to Hell anyway, and everyone’s the same when they’re dead.

 

It’s honestly a pain to be back but he does take some satisfaction in the expressions on their faces as he drinks his liquefied Innocence straight from Lenalee’s hand. It’s a damn shame the rabbit isn’t here – his face would have been hilarious – but Komui’s face is comic gold.

 

\---

 

Kanda rubs his temples, letting out a slow breath. The pain cracking open his skull, and the world’s moving by as though it were all underwater. The voices of the crowd drop into his consciousness, and he’s only barely aware of them as he shoves through them. _Ugh._

 

He snatches Johnny up from the ground, “Oi, what the hell are you doing?”

 

Johnny looks up with teary eyes, “Kanda, we’re screwed! All the money’s gone!”

 

“What?” Fuck, this is the worst morning ever.

 

“It probably got stolen we were sloshed at the bar,” Johnny wails, “If the money’s gone, we can’t take a care anymore. We can’t go find Allen at this rate…”

 

Johnny suddenly shrugs his coat from Kanda’s grip.

 

“Oi!?”

 

“I’ll do something, we have to earn some money!!”

 

“Earn, he says…” Kanda doubts this. He’s hungover, but his senses aren’t so bad that he doesn’t feel the gaze at the back of his head. He turns quickly, and the fucking clown Johnny was in front of earlier is balancing on a ball. He’s not bad for a clown, seeing as he’s managing to juggle several skittles and colorful balls while balancing on the larger ball he was perched on earlier, except he seems to be stuck facing one direction.

 

There’s something very… very… Kanda can’t figure it out when his head feels like shit. But part of it is that the clown is fucking _pretty_.

 

How the fuck does that work? Clowns are supposed to be ugly as hell, painted faces and impractical clothes and stupid stunts. But he’s got these eyelashes, and they’re long and frame soft ash-grey eyes and the bone structure of his face is surprisingly delicate. Strangely (irritatingly) familiar. What business does he have noticing these damn things, anyway? His head is pounding away like the rabbit’s stupid hammer, and he just wants a break. He feels his hand twitch closer to Mugen.

 

He’d really like to slice up that clown.

 

He’s more than halfway sure it’ll make him feel better. Somehow.

 

When the shit goes down, Kanda firmly forgets he had any thoughts regarding prettiness or anything like it, because he clearly had a hangover beating around his head. He’s not responsible for what his brain gets up to when that happens. The paint is also incredibly irritating for some reason, and he takes care to vengefully scrub every bit of it off. The beansprout’s pale clear skin emerges and his eyes are glaring furiously into his when he’s done.

 

Much more like the beansprout now.

 

\---

 

The fuck is the beansprout crying for?!

 

Johnny too?!

 

The _fuck?_

\---

 

Kanda doesn’t know what to think anymore.

 

Apparently the matter of the Fourteenth possessing him isn’t as clean as it looks, because he _nearly killed Johnny_.

 

The beansprout knows it too, and the fear and collapse together on his face, and he curls inward like a wounded snail.

 

He’s trying to hide again.

 

Kanda grits his teeth. He _hates_ it when Allen gets like this, when he just shuts down and quietly gives up.

 

Surprisingly, Johnny speaks. “You haven’t given up, have you, Allen?” He leans forward, “Those eyes of yours are eyes that haven’t given up hope. I’m glad.”

 

Kanda can feel the barest hint of a smile curve his face. For a scientist, Johnny has guts.

 

“… ?”

 

He blinks, then blinks again.

 

… The beansprout’s _blushing_?

 

It’s strangely kind of cute; he didn’t expect the beansprout to feel so touched by that. He wouldn’t mind –

 _No._ No. He’s not going there.

 

Allen’s backing away, clumsily trying to hide his face behind his arms. “Wha…?!”

 

“NOW’S THE TIME TO GET HIM!!”

 

“Eh? Ah, right!!”

 

“ROPE!!!”

 

One beansprout, successfully captured.

 

\---

 

Allen’s not looking at him, but that’s fine. He’s not looking at Allen either.

 

…

 

His arms fucking hurt, dammit.

 

…

 

?!

 

Why the fuck does everyone keep crying around him?! Even the damn golem?!?

 

\---

 

Kanda awakes feeling that he’s finally done something right. He’s talked to the beansprout, sent him off with Johnny. They’ll figure something out.

 

He should feel satisfied about that, but he’s not.

 

Reality is a bitch, and the sight of Timcampy’s withered black remains slaps it into him. He’s not done yet. He hasn’t figured out the frankly shady business truly happening at the Order yet, or talked with the beansprout properly.

 

They’d just… Kanda hates admitting this… _sulked_. He might have talked through things a little with the beansprout under the bridge, but obviously something hasn’t gotten through because last he saw the beansprout he was refusing to look at his face, much less talk to him.

 

Then he’d gotten his ass beaten by whatever that fucking creepy Innocence incarnation was, and…

 

_Allen._

 

He needs help. Johnny’s a good man, but he can’t fight. Kanda has to be there for him.

 

\---

 

A General. A fucking _General_.

 

The beansprout had better appreciate what Kanda’s doing for him.

 

He may have chosen to be an Exorcist, never mind if he actually hates the Order. He may have chosen to kill the Fourteenth if it ever consumes Allen. He may have chosen to say these things.

 

But what Kanda doesn’t say is that he looked at the beansprout’s face and found that fragile kindness that Alma had, so rare because it had been beaten down by every ugly thing he’d seen in the world and still survived. Alma had broken. Kanda couldn’t protect him.

 

Allen hasn’t broken.

 

Yet.

 

Kanda doesn’t want to see the same thing happening to the beansprout. He’s irritating, flashing silver-grey eyes and wielding his smile like sword and shield against the world as though it’d be enough to beat off everyone from the soft underbelly. He wields his Innocence the same way – he’s never quite there, so nothing ever quite hits him. Unguarded, he smiles like a shark in the water and just as vicious, just as vulnerable to harpoons held above by circling hunters.

 

Allen is strong, which is the only reason he hasn’t broken yet. He’s stronger than Alma, stronger than he knows, but he keeps flashing his underbelly up at the harpooners at the damndest times and getting speared for it.

 

Kanda failed to protect Alma, but he’s not going to fail Allen. Once Kanda becomes a General, he’s going to find the fucking beansprout and ream his ass for being stupid, and then set up the best fucking guard in the world so the beansprout can figure his shit out in peace and go on to do whatever-the-fuck makes him happy. He figures having Johnny along might help with that, considering he has enough gadgets to keep track of the troublesome beansprout.

 

The pansy-ass Founders are circling around like squawking chickens and the old man’s beaming at him, teary-eyed, but Kanda doesn’t give a damn. He has work to do.

 

 _Beansprout_. _You’d better be fine, because I’m never letting you live it down if you got yourself creamed by the Innocence or the Noah or some weak shit like that._

_Wait for me._

_I’m coming for you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the gratuitous Ave Maria quotes in the beginning, but the translations are provided below. Also, I have a feeling that since the Dark Order still counts as a religious order, Akuma-slaying aside, all members are required to have some knowledge of Christian hymns, prayers, the Bible, etc. This means even Kanda Yuu gets some pounded into his fragile young head.
> 
> Ave Maria, gratia plena: Hail Mary, full of grace
> 
> Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae: pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death.
> 
> The title is meant to reference Kanda’s obvious parallel with the lotus – like the lotus, he keeps springing up to relentlessly take on more, because he’s tough like that. Though since the “name” of the flower is purposefully left unmentioned, it’s also meant to symbolize other kinds of “flowers.” Such as the flower of “compassion,” “hope,” and of course, “love.”
> 
> Some things I noticed upon rereading the manga – Kanda is becoming a second Cross. He’s not only usurping the position, but the personality. He’s got all the ingredients – badass, scary as a demon, and a lady-killer. That scene with Lenalee? If Kanda ever decides to hit on women, he’d be so good at it. She blushes. Hard. It’s no wonder Komui and Bak panic, because Lenalee is not a woman who blushes easily. And the way he takes down Allen when he’s trying to run away is seriously hot too. In my brain canon, Allen getting hitched to Kanda saves the female population from mass devastation via inadvertent womanizing, because let’s face it, Allen’s probably going to be the jealous kind of lover who makes sure to keep distracting his hubby from making women swoon.
> 
> Kanda: *grabs a woman about to get eaten by an Akuma*
> 
> Woman: *looking up at her dashing heroic rescuer (AKA Kanda) with sparkly eyes and trying to discretely feel up his wonderfully firm chest*
> 
> Kanda: Die, stupid Akuma! (is totally unaware of the woman’s crush or the woman in general beyond being a nuisance clinging onto him and making him fight less effectively)
> 
> Allen: Wow, you’re incompetent BaKanda, you can’t even kill an Akuma and save someone at the same time. (totally notices the woman’s crush and employs the wily and indirect method of getting her away from Kanda)
> 
> Kanda: *always notices Allen * What the fuck do you mean I’m incompetent?! If it’s so easy, you do it! *throws woman to Allen*
> 
> Allen: *smirks* (his plan totally worked)
> 
> Woman: … (afraid, because Allen’s expression is kind of scary right now)
> 
> Kanda: *busy killing things like a boss* (woman? What woman?)
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments, questions, and constructive criticism are welcome. Fire away!


End file.
